Sherlock: Lazarus Rises
by QueenNaberrie
Summary: One-Shot extended and new scenes for "The Empty Hearse" showing Greg Lastrade's, Sally Donovan's, and Mrs. Hudson's reactions to Sherlock's return from the "dead". I know that others have written other versions of this. Although, this is written in a continuing flow of events starting with Greg and Sally before Greg leaves for the car park and ends with Sherlock returning to 221B.


_Author's Note: This is my first time dipping the proverbial toe into the wonderful world of "Sherlock". I come from the land of "Star Wars" and currently have a few multi-chapter stories going in that genre, so this will most likely only be a multi-scene one or two shot to get this out of my system._

_I realize many fanfiction authors have done something similar to this. But I just recently discovered "Sherlock" in the past couple of months and felt the need to write down some of my ideas for some extended and new scenes that I felt were missing from "The Empty Hearse". As much as I love this episode "as is", these are some scenes I wish the writers had been able to fit into the episode but were unable to due to time constraints and artistic flow of the episode._

_Now onto the part where I cover my butt and give credit where credit is due. ;)_

_Disclaimer and Credits: I do not own "Sherlock" nor seek any financial gain from this story. This is purely written for my enjoyment and hopefully the enjoyment of my readers. All the credit for the creation of the original characters for the "Sherlock Holmes" stories goes to the great Sir Arthur Conan Doyle; and all the credit for the modernized, television version, "Sherlock", goes to the fabulous Mark Gatiss, Steven Moffat, and Steve Thompson. "Sherlock" also belongs to BBC in the UK and aired on PBS in the US._

_Quotes from "Sherlock" Season/Series 3 Episode, "The Empty Hearse", script were borrowed from Ariane DeVere's Live Journal page located at the link below merely for a time saver:_

arianedevere.

livejournal

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_Update: If you read this before 1:00pm, EST (NY time), on June 7, 2014, I have since fixed some of my grammatical errors and added a little more detail in a couple of places. It should flow much better now. I beta my own work so I usually come back the next day to fix things I missed in the first couple of read throughs._

Thank you for reading. Reviews are welcome.

**Sherlock: Lazarus Rises**

**(Extended & New Scenes for "The Empty Hearse")**

"You going home, Greg?" Sally Donovan asked DI Lastrade as she strolled into his office and crossed her arms in front of her chest. "You look like you could use some rest. I'm sure whatever it is you're working on can wait until morning."

Greg, who was staring at his laptop screen lost in thought, had his elbows on his desk and was supporting his head with his hands. He looked up at Sally and weakly smiled at her. He sighed. "Yeah…you're probably right." He agreed with her as he turned off his laptop and reached for his coat as he stood up. "I'll see you tomorrow, Donavan." He told her as he started out the door.

"For what it's worth, I'm glad we were able to clear Sherlock Holmes's name." Sally told him as he passed her at the doorway, leaving the rest of what she had to say unsaid but understood between them.

Greg stopped and sadly turned to look at her, seeing the guilt Donovan felt in her eyes. "I am too. It's the least we could do for him…considering what happened." He said with a weak smile and then frowned. "I just wish he was here to appreciate it." He added as they both looked down and Donovan sadly nodded her head. "Goodnight, Donovan." Greg told her before turning and heading out the door.

"Goodnight, Greg." Sally replied as she watched her boss walk off towards the lifts with hunched shoulders.

When Greg stepped off the lift into the dimly lit car park, all he could think about was how much he missed that annoying, but brilliant man who had thrown himself off the top of St. Bart's Hospital two years ago out of desperation when he thought there was no way of restoring his ruined reputation. Greg felt so guilty that he played a part in that…that he entertained the untruths that were being spread about the consultant detective and even considered the possibility that Sherlock Holmes was, indeed, a fake all along. _I shouldn't have believed it. I should have helped him more._

With this melancholy thought, he paused for a moment, scrounging around in his pockets and was startled at the sound of something metal being kicked across the cement floor. Not seeing anything unusual, he shrugged it off and continued with his search until he found what he was looking for…a cigarette and his lighter. He fumbled a bit as he put a cigarette into his mouth and then took his lighter out of his pocket. He had just flicked on the flame to give himself a light when the impossible happened, a deep, baritone voice from the dead projected itself out from the darkness.

"Those things'll kill you."

Greg froze as it took a moment for his mind to register what he had just heard and his mouth went slack as the realization hit him. "Ooh, you bastard!" He exclaimed with joy entering into his soul as he removed the cigarette from his mouth and then turned his head to his right with the corners of his mouth turned upwards into a small smile. He then watched in complete astonishment as the specter continued to speak and started walking towards him out of the darkness.

"It's time to come back." Sherlock informed him as first his white shirt and scarf appeared; and then his face came into full view under the light that was emanating from the ceiling onto his face and dark, curly hair. "You've been letting things slide, Graham."

"Greg!" Lastrade corrected him with slight annoyance. _He's Sherlock all right. The bugger._

"Greg." Sherlock edited himself with his hands clasped behind his back.

Greg simply stared at Sherlock for a moment as he let it sink in that his consultant detective was really standing there in front of him…alive. He sucked in a breath as he lifted his lips to reveal his teeth and abruptly threw both of his arms around Sherlock's neck, pulling him into a tight hug.

Sherlock was stunned and groaned as he not only didn't expect this type of sentiment from the DI, but he was also still quite sore from his beating in Serbia. _Interesting. _He thought to himself as he raised his right eyebrow.

After about a minute, Greg finally released Sherlock from his hold and looked at him with a bit of ire. "Where the hell have you been and why all the dramatics?"

"You know why." Sherlock simply replied as he looked back at the DI with his usual arrogance.

"No, I don't. So please enlighten me." Greg insisted as he continued to look at Sherlock with annoyance.

Sherlock sighed and rolled his eyes. "Very well." He paused. "It was done to save you, John, and Mrs. Hudson."

"Save us from what?!" Greg interjected with surprise. "Moriarty?"

"Moriarty's snipers." Sherlock informed him.

"What?!" The DI replied in surprise.

"Moriarty gave me two choices on the roof that day, either I kill myself or all of you die." Sherlock told him as both Greg's and Sherlock's features softened towards each other. "What would you have done in my place?"

"Oh God." Greg replied, not knowing what else to say to that.

The men simply looked at each other with sentimentality, despite Sherlock's opposition to it. He just couldn't help himself. "What other choice could I make?"

Greg shook his head and he ran his right hand through his spiky, salt and pepper hair. "What a position to be put in." He paused. "I guess in your position, I would have done the same." He squinted at Sherlock with suspicion. "But that doesn't explain where you've been for the last two years."

"Working for MI6 in Eastern Europe and Asia while I hunted down and dismantled Moriarty's network." Sherlock answered him.

Greg looked at him with awe. "I don't believe it. Anderson was right."

It was Sherlock's turn to be surprised. "Right about what?"

"Anderson insisted that you were alive and solving cases across Asia and Eastern Europe." Greg explained. "He even showed me this map with every place he heard of a case that was solved by someone with advanced powers of deduction, claiming that it could only be you solving those cases."

"Hmm. Interesting." Sherlock replied with an amused look on his face, his light blue eyes sparkling.

"So? Was he right? Were you solving cases also?" Greg asked Sherlock with curiosity.

Sherlock smirked with a glimmer in his eyes. "Perhaps."

"Ah ha…so Anderson _was_ right!" The DI exclaimed with delight. "So maybe he isn't so crazy after all, and I can convince the chief superintendent to reinstate him."

Sherlock looked at his DI with confusion and slight concern. "He lost his job?"

Greg sighed. "Yes, unfortunately. Everyone thought he was loony because he kept insisting you were alive. He even started a fan club called The Empty Hearse where they theorize how you could have faked your death." Lastrade then looked at Sherlock with curiosity. "How _did_ you do it? Faked your death, I mean."

"A magician never reveals his methods." Sherlock replied cryptically.

Greg let out a sigh. "All right, Sherlock, whatever. But eventually everyone is going to want to know how you did it."

"Why?" Sherlock said with a smirk as Greg just looked back at him exasperated.

"You know what? Never mind. Forget I asked." The DI came back as he waved his right hand in front of him dismissively towards the consultant detective. "Look, obviously you need something or you wouldn't have come to see me. So what is it?"

Sherlock looked back at Greg almost hurt. "Why would I need something to come visit you?"

"Sherlock!"

"Oh, all right. I do need you for something." Sherlock finally admitted with all seriousness.

"What is it? What's going on?" Lastrade asked him with concern.

"Mycroft has asked me to investigate a report that an underground terrorist cell is going to cause a major terror strike somewhere in London. There will obviously be a bomb involved so I am going to need police bomb disposal available when it's found." Sherlock educated him.

Greg nodded and looked back at Sherlock with concern. "Of course. Do you know when this might happen?"

"No, not yet." Sherlock admitted. "I haven't had time to investigate anything yet." He paused as he looked down and then up at Greg. "I needed to re-enter London and reveal myself to all those who were close to me."

"Have you seen John yet?" Greg asked with concern.

Sherlock acted nervous and sad at the same time. "Yes."

"And?" The DI asked.

"He's angry with me. Attacked me three times and we got thrown out of three eating establishments." Sherlock pointed to his lip with disappointment. "That's where this split lip came from."

Greg sighed and shook his head. "Well, can't say I can blame him. If I wasn't so happy to see you, I would have punched you too." He said with a serious look on his face before smiling at Sherlock with a twinkle in his eye. He patted Sherlock's left arm, seeing the consultant detective's disappointment in John's rejection of him. "I'm sure he will forgive you, Sherlock, once he cools off and realizes he has a chance to have you back in his life again. He's really missed you. We all have."

The corners of Sherlock's mouth went up in a sad smile in response, not willing to tarnish his reputation as a self-declared "high-functioning sociopath" by admitting that he, too, missed everyone.

Greg, knowing Sherlock, saw this just as an awkward yet comfortable silence passed between them. Greg then clapped and rubbed his hands together. "So, Sherlock, if you need police help, you really need to come back inside with me so all of Scotland Yard doesn't think me as crazy as Anderson."

"But Anderson isn't crazy. I'm alive." Sherlock pointed out.

"Yes, I know _that_…but everyone else inside is going to think I'm loony if they don't see you for themselves." Lastrade explained as he pointed over his right shoulder with his right thumb towards the lift.

Sherlock sighed. "Very well. I suppose I will need to accompany you inside. But I need your discretion until I can go see Mrs. Hudson. She is the last one I need to visit. But after tonight you can announce my return to the media."

"Of course, it won't be announced until tomorrow morning." Greg assured Sherlock as he stepped back and motioned for Sherlock to go ahead of him with his right hand. "Shall we?"

"Of course." Sherlock replied as both men started walking towards the lift.

When the lift doors opened into the Scotland Yard offices, the PC on duty at the desk near the door gawked at Sherlock and turned pale as both he and Lastrade stepped off of the lift, the chip he was about to eat falling to the desk. "You can close your mouth, Brown, he's real." Lastrade informed the poor, young officer as they walked by.

Sherlock simply smirked at the PC as he followed Greg through the offices where they both heard a series of gasps and items dropping as they went by. When they reached Sally's cubicle, she had her back to them so she didn't see their approach. Greg motioned for Sherlock to stay just out of view while he broke the news of Sherlock's "resurrection" to her, which Sherlock complied by ducking behind the cubicle wall.

"Donovan." Greg addressed her, causing her to turn around in surprise. She got to her feet and turned towards him, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

"Greg, I thought you were going home?" Sally asked as she suddenly realized that Lastrade was in much better spirits than when he left only a few minutes ago. "You look happy. What happened?" She asked with a confused look on her face.

Greg's brown eyes sparkled with excitement as he smiled. "You're never going to believe who I ran into in the car park."

Sally looked at him confused. "Who?"

Before Greg could answer, Sherlock stepped out from behind the cubicle wall so Sally could see him. "Hello, Donovan."

Sally's jaw dropped as her arms dropped to her sides. She then got a disgusted look on her face. "What?! How is _that_ possible?!" She asked with annoyance as she pointed at Sherlock and turned to look at Greg hoping for answers. Greg simply shrugged his shoulders and laughed.

"Now you have your witnesses, Lastrade. Ta. Gotta dash." Sherlock declared and left with a swirl of his long, dark coat.

"Freak!" Donovan shouted after him as she put her right hand on her hip and watched his retreating back with loathing.

ooOoo

During the entire cab ride to Baker Street, the cabbie kept giving Sherlock odd looks through the rear view mirror. Sherlock had done nothing to disguise his appearance and the fact that he had requested to go to 221B Baker Street had done nothing to alleviate the cabbie's growing suspicions about his passenger.

"Hey, uh, are you related to that guy…you know that detective that killed himself a couple years back?" The cabbie finally asked Sherlock.

Sherlock merely sighed and looked out the passenger side window. "Perhaps."

"You look like him." The cabbie replied.

Sherlock smirked as he continued to look out the window. "Yes."

"It's good news, isn't it? That he was proven not to be a fake?" The cabbie responded as they pulled up just outside the entrance to 221B Baker Street.

"Yes, it is." Sherlock answered as he opened the door to the cab and stepped out. "Keep the change." He told the cabbie as he handed him his fare through the open window.

"Thank you, mate." The cabbie replied with a smile and then drove off.

Sherlock turned and paused as he took in the sight of the front of his Baker Street residence. The familiar red awning over the door of Speedy's Sandwich Bar, the stone work, and finally he turned his gaze to the black, wooden door that displayed the numbers of his most famous address, 221B, in brass.

With a sigh, he fished into his pants pocket, pulled out the keys to his old flat, and continued to unlock and open the black outer door. It was dark inside, except for a dim, orange light that lit up the short hallway that led to the inner door. He stepped inside and could have sworn he heard the squeaking of Mrs. Hudson's flat door opening as he reached out for the door knob. He turned the door knob for the inner door and stepped through just in time to see Mrs. Hudson standing in her doorway with a frying pan in her hand. She started to scream.

Sherlock became alarmed as Mrs. Hudson acted like she was going into hysterics. "Mrs. Hudson, it's all right. It's me…it's Sherlock." He tried to assure her as he moved closer to her and grabbed her left wrist that held the frying pan to prevent her from hitting him with it.

Feeling Sherlock's warm hand on her wrist helped Mrs. Hudson to realize the reality of the fact that Sherlock was really there standing in front of her alive. "Ohh, Sherlock. You're alive!" She exclaimed as she dropped the frying pan to the floor. Sherlock released her wrist and she threw both of her arms around his waist, crying into his chest. Sherlock returned her sign of affection and…_sentiment_…as he couldn't help feeling a bit sentimental himself. He really had missed his landlady, and he didn't realize how much until this very moment.

"Yes, I'm alive, Mrs. Hudson. I'm home." Sherlock told her. "After two long years, I am finally home again."

It was with this thought that Mrs. Hudson regained most of her senses back as she backed out of her embrace with the consultant detective and hit him in the arm. "You have a lot of explaining to do, young man. Letting everyone believe you were dead. Shame on you! Did you know that John was here this afternoon to tell me he is getting married? He was so devastated about you dying that he had a hard time setting one foot in Baker Street. We all were devastated. How could you?!" She told him as she crossed her arms in front of her chest and looked at him sternly. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Hudson." Sherlock simply replied. "It was necessary. If I didn't 'die', you, John, and DI Lastrade would have been dead. Jim Moriarty had snipers following you."

"What, Sherlock? What are you talking about…snipers?" Mrs. Hudson retorted with fear in her eyes.

Sherlock pulled her to him and hugged her again. "No need to fear them, Mrs. Hudson. I spent the last two years making sure that none of Moriarty's network could harm you."

Sherlock heard a sniffle coming from older lady in his arms, who he saw reach up with her right hand to wipe her eyes. "Well, you're here now and that's all that's important."

"Thank you, Mrs. Hudson." Sherlock interjected…not knowing what else to say to her.

"Have you seen, John?" Mrs. Hudson finally asked.

"Yes, and I think I interrupted his marriage proposal." Sherlock answered her question sheepishly. "And he's quite angry with me."

Mrs. Hudson's heart melted as she looked at Sherlock with sympathy and put her left arm through Sherlock's right arm. "Ohh…Sherlock. He will get over it. You'll see. He loves you, you know."

Sherlock looked down at her with surprise. "He told you that?"

She shook her head. "No, not in so many words. But you notice these things." Sherlock smiled as his heart warmed. He sighed as he then looked up the stairs that led to their…his flat. Following Sherlock's gaze, Mrs. Hudson knew the question that Sherlock wanted to ask before he could ask it. "I didn't let it out and all your things are still up there. I even dusted today after John left. It was just so dusty, I couldn't help myself."

Sherlock smiled down at his landlady again. "Just in time for me to come home."

Mrs. Hudson laughed. "But I thought you didn't like me dusting?"

Sherlock also laughed. "I don't…but it's ok...just this one time."

"I'm glad to hear it." Mrs. Hudson answered him with a joyful smile and a twinkle in her eyes. "You can go up now. I'll fix you a cuppa and make you some dinner. You look half starved, Sherlock. You haven't been eating right. I can tell. Make yourself comfortable and I'll be up soon." She ordered him as she scurried off to her flat.

Sherlock smiled warmly. "Thank you, Mrs. Hudson." He told her wearily as he started up the stairs. _Home at last._


End file.
